


keep running when your world falls behind

by shuijing



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Blood and Violence, Concussions, Guns, Hopeful Ending, M/M, MINOR. i'm not evil don't worry, Medical Inaccuracies, Minor Character Death, logistical inaccuracies too, not a lot of romance and zombies for a fic about romance and zombies, please close your eyes and excuse all that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:32:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24142882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shuijing/pseuds/shuijing
Summary: During the apocalypse, one has to travel light. Chenle keeps two things close to him: his gun, and Jisung.
Relationships: Park Jisung/Zhong Chen Le
Comments: 13
Kudos: 93





	keep running when your world falls behind

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [keep standing when the world falls down](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24120709) by [demonglass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonglass/pseuds/demonglass). 



> this fic was inspired by and is set in the same universe as ammy's renhyuck fic. you don't have to read it to understand the context behind this one, but you should, because her writing is amazing. 
> 
> the alternatives titles for this fic are "chenle_shooting_a_gun_and_saying_so_easy_man.mp4" and "[bees gees voice] stayin' alive stayin' alive" which should tell you everything you need to know about it

Chenle looks out the dusty, dirt-stained window, holding his breath. There are a few of them ambling away from them, down the street, far enough away that he deems them not a threat, for now. He draws back, walking towards Jisung's sleeping form, impossibly small and curled around his duffel bag. His grip on his rifle doesn't loosen.

"Jisung," he says as he crouches down, keeping his voice low. The younger boy doesn't stir, so he reaches a hand out and shakes him gently. "Jisung, we have to go."

He comes to consciousness slowly, the way the sun rises in the east: the fade of the starry sky in the way he curls tighter around his bag, unwilling to go; the blooming of orange and pink in the fluttering of his lashes; the first rays of sunlight in his eyes, as they blink open and focus on Chenle, as he recognises his surroundings and remembers why they're here. It takes him longer than usual to get his bearings. Chenle chews his lip, worried.

"You feeling okay?" He asks, knowing it's futile. Jisung would say yes even if all his organs were failing and he was teetering on the precipice of death. He does, voice rough from sleep.

"Let me see your arm," Chenle says, holding out the hand not pre-occupied with his gun. Jisung obediently lays his wrist on Chenle's palm. He puts the rifle down on the grimy ground, just for a second, just to push the sleeve of Jisung's hoodie up, and exhales in relief. He hasn't bled through his bandages again, thankfully. They only have one roll of gauze left, and where they're headed, there aren't going to be many abandoned pharmacies to scavenge through.

It was his fault. They had gone into one of those big convenience stores, the kind with slushie machines and hot water dispensers for instant ramyeon and light-up signs that shone through the night, before. Predictably, everything on the shelves had been taken or destroyed, but the backroom had been locked and somehow, nobody had thought to pick it. Jisung had worked through that problem with his Swiss Army knife, and inside, they had found granola bars and bottled water that had yet to expire. 

Their excitement at the discovery quickly dampened when Chenle heard a noise from outside the door. They needed to check it out, get rid of the danger, but he didn't want to leave without all the food and water. So he broke their unspoken only rule: stick together. He left Jisung to stuff as much as he could into his duffel bag and crept back to the front of the store, safety off and finger on the trigger. The door was swinging open, drops of blood on the floor leading away from him and around the corner of another aisle. He had run back as quickly he could, but when he got there, the creature was already launching itself at Jisung, teeth ready to tear into his flesh. He killed it with a single shot, but then they had to grab whatever they had in the duffel bag and run, in case others heard the gunshot and came to find the cause. Jisung's sleeve had been soaked through with blood by the time they stopped, a safe distance away.

That isn't his biggest concern, and that in itself is concerning. The gash on his arm was severe enough that it wouldn't stop bleeding, bad enough that Chenle had to change his bandages within the first hour. With their minimal medical supplies, it could easily get infected. But when the creature had gone for Jisung's face, he fell back against the metal shelves, the back of his head hitting the rim with an audible _thud._ Chenle doesn't know how long a concussion lasts, but it's been three days and the dazed look in Jisung's eyes hasn't faded away. 

"Come on," he says, picking up his gun. He remembers complaining about how heavy it was, when he was a kid and his parents brought him to the shooting range for the first time. Now, its weight in his hand is comforting. "I saw a few close by, out the window. We should leave."

"Okay," Jisung mumbles, heaving himself to his feet. He fishes a sheathed knife out of his bag and tucks it in the pocket of his hoodie. They sneak out of the back entrance, travelling in silence over deserted roads. Buildings start giving way to greenery as they head away from the city. They had discussed this, the night before they broke into that convenience store. Get out of the city, follow the roads until they find the railway, then follow that. It's not safe to stay in one place for too long. They've learned their lesson.

_Glass shattering. Yelling. Adrenaline, rushing through his system. Heart pounding in his ears, so loud he can almost taste it. Groaning. Yangyang screaming. The heel of his rifle digging into his shoulder. Choking on nothing, chest heaving as they got away, further and further and further._

_Stop it,_ he tells himself. He focuses on the sound of his breathing, the crunch of gravel under his feet, Jisung's silhouette ahead of him. This far out from the dead center of the city, it's easier to breathe. The air isn't dense with grime and rot. It's quiet except for the sound of birds calling to each other. He wipes his sweaty palms on his shirt and runs his fingers over the barrel of his gun.

The sun is halfway to its peak in the sky when Jisung suddenly stops, sliding his bag off his shoulder and rummaging through it. He hands over a granola bar when Chenle catches up to him, eyebrows raised questioningly. He's suddenly aware of the hunger gnawing at his stomach.

"Just realised we didn't have breakfast," Jisung says. Chenle rips the wrapping open and takes a bite. It's dry and chewy and all they've had for three days, but this one has dried cranberries in it, so he supposes he can't complain.

"Split?" He asks, holding the bar up to Jisung's lips. It's not really a question; they have to preserve as much of their food as possible. Half a granola bar is better than nothing at all.

Jisung waves his off, and he frowns. "Not hungry," he explains, starting to walk off again. Chenle frowns harder. They're always hungry; it's the end of the world, for fuck's sake. 

He hasn't been eating well, the past couple of days. He threw up a little while after they ran from the convenience store, and since then he hasn't been able to stomach more than a few bites before shoving his food at Chenle. He _needs_ energy if they're going to be walking this much. Still, Chenle doesn't say anything, just eats half the granola bar and bundles the rest in his pocket.

They walk somemore. Not a single creature comes into sight, which as much of a surprise as it is a relief. In such open surroundings, if Chenle were to fire, more would surely come and investigate. Soon they reach the outskirts, and they diverge from the road to find the railway.

It's there, rusted and unused. Jisung stops and stares at it for a moment, the never-ending stretch of metal and wood, curving into the horizon. 

"Do you remember the last time you rode a train?"

Chenle wracks his brain and comes up empty. "No," he admits. It was probably for something mundane, like going downtown to his dad's office or travelling to a friend's house. "But I can remember the first time I rode a train. It was on the older ones that go out of town, not the high-speed ones on the city circuit. I remember my mother telling me that I had to behave myself and be quiet, but I just looked out of the window the entire time. And a lady came by with a cart, and the sandwiches were good."

Jisung smiles at his rambling. "I used to really like train rides. When I went home after school, I always took the train rather than the bus." The meaning is there, hidden between his words. _I miss the life we had, before._

"Hold my gun," Chenle says. Jisung stares at him, caught off-guard, and makes no move to take it. Impatiently, he shoves it into his arms. " _Hold it,_ it's not gonna shoot you, the safety's on."

"Why-" Jisung starts to ask, but Chenle is already turning around and bending his knees. "Get on my back."

Dumbfounded, the only thing Jisung says is, "But I'm taller than you?"

Chenle sighs. "Well, you don't see any trains around, do you? I'm the next best thing."

Finally, Jisung gets on his back, one arm draped around Chenle's neck and the other cradling his rifle. Chenle adjusts his weight until it's comfortable, then starts walking, following the railway. "Now you can pretend you're riding a train again."

"This is so stupid," Jisung mutters, but he laughs when Chenle imitates the high-pitched whistle and chugging sounds of a steam train. He walks like this for a good distance, Jisung hiding his smile in the crook of Chenle's neck. He knows how dangerous this is. Jisung doesn't know how to fire a gun. If some of the dead find them like this, they waste precious seconds getting Jisung off his back and the gun cocked and ready. But the breeze smells like damp grass rather than decay, and Jisung's chest is warm where he's leaning against his back, and he misses their lives before, too. They can have this. Jisung can have this.

Eventually, Chenle drops Jisung back to the ground, complaining of sore legs and muscle cramps. Jisung whacks him on the arm for it, protesting that he isn't _that_ heavy, but the careless grin on his face as he hands Chenle's rifle back is shaped like a thank you. They walk on the left outer edge of the train tracks, stones crackling under their boots. The sun hangs over them, but the weather is cool enough that all it does is spin flyaway strands of Jisung's hair into threads of gold.

They don't have a plan, or even a destination, which could be just as much as a risk of death as a horde of those creatures running straight at them. But this isn't like the movies they watched growing up, eyes glued to the grotesque corpses created with make-up and post-production editing, unaware that this would one day be their lives. There isn't a safe base set up by the military in another city. Everyone they know either died before their eyes or is almost definitely dead. They have nowhere to go but away.

But what can they do but keep going? After everything they've been through, there is nothing but one foot in front of the other, and another, and another.

The landscape changes as they continue, signs of civilisation just barely clinging onto the land. Fields of withered crops, the occasional farmhouse with shuttered, broken windows, telephone lines with no signal running through them. They pass a patch of pasture land, still green with healthy grasses, and there is an actual, honest-to-God herd of cattle grazing. They stop to look at the calmly grazing cows for a moment. Chenle makes a joke about barbecue, and Jisung elbows him in the ribs. They move on.

The horizon starts filling with forest when they decide to stop for real, sometime in the afternoon. Jisung sways as soon as they stop moving, and Chenle has to catch him before he stumbles and falls.

"I'm fine," he says, even as Chenle makes him sit down. "I'm fine, it's nothing-"

"What's nothing?" Chenle asks, fishing the half-finished granola bar out of his pocket. Jisung swallows, caught.

"Migraine."

"Since when?" His voice is sharp, no-nonsense.

"... Since I woke up," Jisung says, not looking at him as he takes the granola bar. Chenle makes a frustrated noise, but doesn't try telling him off for not saying something. _We're in this together. You have to tell me these things._ Jisung knows. He's heard it before.

"Eat," he says, pointing a threatening finger at him. "Finish this, at least."

He sifts through the duffel bag while Jisung takes small bites out of the bar, chewing slowly. He finds the water canister right at the bottom. It's still about three-quarters full. He takes a few careful sips out of it and makes Jisung drink some too. It goes back into the duffel bag, half-full.

"We can stop for today," Chenle says. Jisung shakes his head immediately, swallowing his last bite with a grimace. "There's no cover here. We should keep going."

"You need to rest," Chenle argues.

"I'm _fine,_ " Jisung says stubbornly. He looks towards the forest ahead of them. "Let's at least get to somewhere more covered. We can, I don't know, climb a tree or something. It's safer. Just a couple hours more."

Chenle bites the inside of his cheek, but eventually agrees. Jisung's right; there's no cover here. Not that a forest is much better, but they have to make do.

After a short break, they get moving again at Jisung's insistance and trudge towards the treeline in the distance. Not another word is exchanged between them. Chenle traces the slope of Jisung's shoulders in front of him, over and over again, wishing they had painkillers, a place to rest, a few days to spare, something to ease Jisung's pain and his own all-consuming worry. 

The pastures and farmland around them start getting more forested as they go, scattered trees dotting the even ground. Shadows lengthen in the sun's slow descent. Over the side of the railway, Jisung's shadow follows his every step, legs longer than his already are. When he steps unsteadily, trips, it follows suit.

Chenle reaches out to steady him every time it happens, but he always shakes him off, a firm, "Wasn't watching my step," at the tip of his tongue each time.

Maybe they shouldn't have left the city. At least there were abandoned buildings everywhere they turned, the shelter they need before they can allow themselves to let down their guard and rest. At least they wouldn't be here, travelling on barely-filled stomachs, one of them feeling dizzy and the other feeling guilty.

Chenle eats another granola bar, using the excuse of digging it out to take the bag from Jisung and sling it over his own shoulder. He gets Jisung to take a bite, but he kind of looks like he's going to throw up again, so he doesn't test his luck.

They walk. Chenle thinks about how many days they can last on granola bars, whether they would be able to find freshwater in the forest, how they're going to keep watch in shifts when Jisung needs all the sleep he can get. He supposes an all-nighter for one night isn't all that bad, though he curses the lack of coffee. The apocalypse couldn't have left them one small mercy in the form of caffeine?

It's almost dark when they reach the edge of the _real_ forest, denser than the patches of trees they've been passing. Camphor trees loom over them, blocking out the weak sunlight. Luckily, the construction of the railway cleared the path for them long ago. They leave the open air behind.

It's getting cold now that the sun is setting. Shadows are not so much lengthening as wrapping themselves around them. Even though he can hear the far-off rustling of animals moving through the undergrowth, their breathing sounds almost too loud for the undisturbed air in the forest. It's slightly unnerving.

Chenle's thoughts are torn away from the unsettling atmosphere around them when Jisung stumbles, and doesn't catch himself.

"Jisung!" He's just sprawled on the floor, not getting up. A hot flush of anxiety travels through Chenle as he catches Jisung's forearm, just stopping short of tugging him to his feet when he notices him clutching his head, eyes shut tightly.

"I'm fine, just- just give me a moment," he blinks rapidly. "Oh, God, why is everything spinning?"

"You're _not_ fine. Don't get up, let's-we're resting here for a while. Wait, you should drink some water-" Chenle moves to get the water cannister, but stops when he looks up. It's dark—the sun is almost completely below the horizon, judging by the barely-there light—and Chenle can't quite make out the silhouettes just twenty meters away from them, within the forest, but then his eyes adjust and he barely stifles a gasp.

It wasn't animals he heard, moving through the undergrowth. It was the shuffling footsteps of seven of those creatures.

In a split second, Chenle weighs his options. He could shoot them, but they're not far from them, and he's not so confident in his abilities that he thinks he could kill all of them with a single shot in the low light. They have to run. Even though the creatures would definitely give chase once they start, it's their only chance.

"We gotta run," he hisses lowly, panic bleeding into his voice. Jisung looks up at him, confusion writ over his features. "Jisung, seven of them, behind us. We have to _go_."

He pulls Jisung to his feet roughly, and he stumbles but Chenle doesn't care, can't care when one of the creatures lets out a gargly, menacing growl. They take off into the forest, on the other side of the tracks from where the creatures are. Twigs snap and dead leaves crunch behind them, getting close, getting closer. They run in the semi-darkness, veering dangerously close to tree trunks, ducking under low branches. Jisung is keeping up surprisingly well for someone who almost passed out two minutes ago. Chenle's chest rises and falls harshly. Jisung's hand is the only thing grounding him in his adrenaline rush.

He has to let go, once he remembers he has a gun. He can't stop and aim properly, but he twists his torso and shoots blindly behind him, hoping and praying that it hits a target, incapacitates them even just for a few seconds. Those creatures are dead, their limbs rotting and falling apart, but they're more agile than the living. They can't outrun them. They still have to try.

He tries to steady the rifle the best he can, but on the move, there's nothing he can do but curl his finger over the trigger and squeeze. Out of nowhere, he vividly remembers his older brother pressing the rifle into his hands, eyes desperate and red-rimmed. "Take this and go," he had said. His brother had never used this tone with him before. He knew there was no arguing. "Go, run into that building, lock the door. I'll come find you when it's safe outside." Then he had leaned over Chenle's seat, opened the car door and pushed him out. The last thing Chenle remembers of his brother was his car, driving straight into a crowd of those creatures, running over a few before the rest enveloped the vehicle in a mass of decaying bodies.

Hysterically, he thinks, _Ge, you couldn't have given me a handgun instead?_

Jisung tugging him sharply to the left is the only thing that keeps him from running into a tree. After that, he turns back every few seconds, shoots wildly, and then looks back in front, dodging upcoming obstacles. He can barely see a meter in front of him. Drops of sweat roll down his neck, making the back of his shirt damp. 

He pulls the trigger once more, expecting a _bang_ and the recoil, but it never comes. His rifle stutters, the empty _click_ dropping like a stone to the pit of Chenle's stomach. He tries again. _Click._

" _Fuck!_ " He curses in a loud, ragged explosion. "No more bullets. Fuck."

There's another magazine inside the duffel bag, but they hardly have the time to stop and reload. Chenle swears again, transferring his gun to one hand and finding Jisung's again with the other. He pushes his legs to go faster, even when the muscles scream at him to slow down. He doesn't know if the bullets caught any of the creatures behind them. Their only chance of survival is to go faster, create some distance between them.

It doesn't seem to be working. Even with them sprinting through the forest, Chenle's feet going numb, the sounds of pursuit behind them only get louder. The cold air stings his eyes. The duffel bag thumps painfully against his back with every movement.

Suddenly, the trees disappear, and they spill out onto a dirt path. Maybe Jisung trips, or he loses his balance after running for too long, Chenle doesn't know because his eyes are on the trees on the other side of the road and his thoughts are swinging back and forth between trying to get up a tree and _run, run, run_ and he's pushing back the wave of nausea that threatens to consume him, but Jisung's hand is wrenched out of his grip and he goes crashing down on the dirt.

Momentum propels Chenle a few feet forward before he can stop himself, but he skids to a stop and turns back around. Jisung is getting to his knees by himself. A creature, the first of six survivors, is almost on them, his shadowy figure getting closer and closer. Chenle goes cold from inside out. He runs back.

He doesn't anticipate Jisung shoving him away when he gets within an arms-length of him. His push is strong enough to send Chenle stumbling back to where he was, and unexpected enough that Chenle just stares, eyes wide with horror, for a few seconds.

"Go!" Jisung yells at him, pulling out the unsheathed knife from his pocket. "Run, Chenle! Fucking run! I'll hold them off!"

The fastest creature comes at him with a guttural roar, its eyes flashing unnaturally. Jisung stabs it right in the face, and there's the sound of metal slicing through bone, and now blood all over him. He pulls the knife out with a jerk of his arm. 

There's a second one coming up, just a few steps behind Jisung, and the first isn't dead and Jisung only has a knife. Time seems to slow down. In the dark, in the stupid fucking forest they never should have come to, in the face of certain death that he could escape, he remembers: his father hitting the first creature they ever came across with a golf club, bashing its head in but not killing it, his mother pushing her children into the car to the sounds of her husband dying, tears running down her blotchy red cheeks. Sitting in that dusty building, door locked, rifle clutched to his chest like a kid hugging a stuffed animal, waiting for a promise that would never be fulfilled. The scream that Yangyang let out when a creature bit into his shoulder, Chenle shooting it first, then him, the gunshot drowning out his sobbed apologies. 

Chenle realises, acutely and startlingly, that he would rather die than lose someone else. Than lose Jisung. Jisung, who misses taking the train, who dragged him away after he shot Yangyang and couldn't breathe, who insists that he's okay when he isn't, who is the only one Chenle has in this godforsaken hell.

He runs back just as Jisung stabs the first one again, through the top of its head this time, and the second emerges from the trees. Chenle goes straight for that one, rifle held out straight in front of him, aiming high. The muzzle pierces the creature's eye with a sickening squelch, as he intended. He pushes the whole barrel in, garnering an agonised wail. With strength he didn't know he had, he pulls the gun to the side, snapping its neck. He pulls the barrel out and it falls to the ground, but he stabs it one more time through the skull for good measure.

"What the fuck, I said-" Jisung starts, voice shaky. The creature he was attacking is dead too, slumped at his feet. From the sound of it, the other four are not far behind, though. 

"I'm not leaving you!" Chenle cries. His voice is sharp and broken like a wild thing, but still he can't quite convey how badly he needs Jisung to survive in this world. Without him, what does he have left? "I can't!"

They don't have any time to argue, because the other four come running at them. Chenle uses the heel of the rifle to dent the side of one's head, sending it reeling back for a few seconds. To his side, he can hear Jisung's knife sliding in and out of flesh. A second creature reaches for him as the other recovers, and he swings the rifle, whacking its arms heavily. They're holding them off for now, but there are four of them, and only one Chenle, one Jisung. They're fighting a losing battle. One of the creatures, the first one, almost takes a bite out of his arm but he manages to scramble away in time, only to be attacked by the second one. He tries the eye technique again, but he's tired and overwhelmed and he doesn't have even a spare second to aim, and he ends up driving it an inch into its cheek instead. It's irritated, and not dead. There's no time to try again before there's a groan behind him and the other one is coming for him.

In the back of mind, he wishes he could reach out and take Jisung's hand, to tell him, _I got you, even now, I got you._

It's funny, when you're staring death in the eyes. Chenle is so scared he feels nothing at all. He readies his rifle, pierces it through the creature's chest, but he's too close and it doesn't die, and its teeth are gnashing, so close to Chenle's face. He's going to die.

Except he doesn't, because there's a soft whistling sound and then something embedding itself into the back of its head. It howls, tearing itself away from him, but then another one is whizzing through the air and hitting it on the temple. It's an arrow. The creature goes down, gurgling.

Chenle doesn't have time to question, because there was one right behind him, just waiting to pounce. He kicks it in the stomach, delaying it for a only a moment. But that moment is all that's needed, because in the next someone sprints to it and digs something long and hooked into its head, cracking its skull and ripping out flesh with an violent twist. Suddenly there's headlights shining in his face, and voices, and another arrow zooming past him to hit the creature on top of Jisung, and Chenle can't quite process this but he's alive.

The person who came to his rescue goes after the last creature, finishing him off with the help of an arrow passing cleanly through his head. Chenle stands there, useless, numb. He hears the voices, but doesn't know what they're saying, can't believe what's happening. He's alive. He's alive, and other people, living people, saved them.

His eyes come back into focus when that person steps in front of him, his face marred with a frown. Unlike how slowly he's registering everything else, as soon as this boy's features appear in view, he recognises him. There's a roaring in his ears. He's stopped breathing. He watches the boy's mouth fall open as he recognises Chenle too, the motion seemingly soundless, time moving like sludge.

He reaches out and touches Chenle's shoulder, and the weight brings him back to reality. "- my God," Huang Renjun is saying, Huang Renjun from before, hair longer and gaze harder and cheekbones more pronounced, but the same Huang Renjun that Chenle knew before the world ended. "Zhong Chenle. I didn't- I thought everyone was dead."

 _I thought everyone was dead too,_ is what Chenle means to say, but when he opens his mouth a whimper escapes instead, and now he's crying, so hard he can't even breathe between the sobs. Renjun immediately hugs him, uncaring of the blood on both their clothes, and Chenle just stands there, shaking, fat salty tears running down his face and dripping onto Renjun's shoulder. He's alive. He's alive, and Renjun is, miraculously, alive, and Jisung is—

"Jisung," he says, though it comes out more of a unintelligible gasp instead. He struggles a little, and Renjun lets him go quickly. He lurches over to where Jisung is, still on the ground although the creature has already been pushed off him. There's someone else knelt beside him, a guy, crossbow strapped to his back, helping Jisung sit up.

"Jisung," he repeats, slightly more comprehensible this time. Jisung's eyelids flutter. Chenle grabs his hand, and another tear splashes onto the back of it. "It's okay. We're okay. We're alive. I'm here."

Renjun and the other guy speak over them, Renjun saying something about knowing him, the guy saying another thing about the truck behind them, but Chenle isn't listening. Jisung is barely conscious, having overexerted his body when he still has a concussion.

"Do you guys have a place to stay?" Chenle interrupts. He feels another bout of crying coming as he explains, "He needs to rest. He- He hit his head, and he hasn't recovered, and, and-"

"Lele, _breathe,_ " Renjun says, and Chenle sobs again. _Lele._ He hasn't heard that in forever. He feels like he's going to throw up. "We have a safe house, not far from here. Let's get you two in the truck, okay? In case there are more of... them in these woods. Jeno, can you carry him?"

"I got him," says the other guy—Jeno, Chenle registers distantly. He bridal carries Jisung like he weighs nothing. Renjun runs ahead, climbs into the passenger's seat and leans over to the driver's side start the car. Chenle sticks to Jeno's side like glue, wiping his tears on the back of his hand, but they keep coming. He doesn't calm down until he's in the backseat with Jisung's head in his lap, Jeno driving them down the bumpy dirt path with Renjun talking through a crackling radio receiver to someone named Hyuck, his sobs quieting down to sniffles. He's so tired. He wants to sleep for three days. He wants Jisung to be okay.

Jisung mumbles something. He's struggling to keep his eyes open, but he looks at Chenle blurrily, giving their intertwined hands a weak squeeze. "Thank you," he murmurs, barely audible. "For not leaving me back there."

Chenle sniffs. He doesn't know where they're going, or how Renjun is alive, or how he and his friend(s?) found this safe house, but he thinks they're safe, and they're going to be okay. "Never."

Never again. It's a promise.

**Author's Note:**

> renle’s relationship is ambiguous let ur imagination run wild
> 
> the ending's open-ended but also not because as the author i'm telling you the dreamies live out their best lives in that safe house. also this can be read platonically but once again as the author i'm asking if you're really going to ignore all the blatantly romantic undertones in this
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/huanggeum) | [cc that i don't check often sorry](https://curiouscat.me/jingying)


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